Krakow. The Warsaw Ghetto. Auschwitz. Birkenau. Majdanek. Marietta, Georgia.
What do these names have in common? They are all places where people killed Jews just for being Jews. I visited the other places during an interfaith mission that the Anti-Defamation League sponsored in 2005. Our group included religious and lay leaders from the Atlanta community. We were Protestants, Catholics, Jews, Muslims; ministers, priests, and rabbis; corporate and civic leaders; and ordinary citizens like me. We came from different religious faiths, races, and backgrounds, but we shared the belief that bigotry and hatred have no place in American society.
We flew to Poland, and at Auschwitz, along with 18,000 other people from around the world, we participated in the "March of the Living." This is an annual event during which people march from Auschwitz I to Auschwitz II (Birkenau) to celebrate the liberation of the death camps in 1945. We saw the infamous Plaszow work camp made famous by "Schindler's List"; we walked the streets and squares of what little remains of the Warsaw Ghetto where the Nazis herded Jews into cattle cars for the journey to the concentration camps.
After spending four days in Poland, we flew to Israel. Going from the gray, cold, rainy environment of Poland into the blazing sunlight of Israel was a remarkable journey, both physically and spiritually. In Israel, we met in small groups with Israeli leaders Shimon Peres, Ehud Olmert, and Tzipi Livni. We dined with Palestinian leaders, Israeli, American and Palestinian journalists, and mayors of cities in the West Bank. We saw the separation wall; we argued about the upcoming Israeli disengagement from the Gaza Strip. We explored Jerusalem and prayed at the Western Wall; we floated on the Dead Sea; we walked at the top of Masada where centuries ago a small band of Jews fought the Roman army. Rather than surrender to the Romans, the Jews committed mass suicide. From the Golan Heights, we saw all of the Sea of Galilee; the Syrian border was no more than a few miles away behind us. We trekked along the shores of Galilee where Jesus lived, and we crossed the Jordan River.
Atlanta has a special relationship with ADL: the case of Leo Frank. An educated and assimilated Jew from the north, Frank managed a pencil factory in Atlanta. In 1913, he was accused of killing a young gentile girl, Mary Phagan. In an atmosphere poisoned by a mob yelling, "kill the Jew," Frank was tried in Fulton County Superior Court, was convicted, and was sentenced to death. In 1915, then-Georgia governor John Slaton, after reviewing the case at length and at great risk to his political career, commuted Frank's sentence from death to life in prison. Slaton believed the evidence did not support the guilty verdict. But, with the help of local politicians and citizens, a group of men abducted Frank from prison and lynched him in Marietta in August 1915.
Frank's lynching led to two remarkably dissimilar events: first, the revival of the Ku Klux Klan, and second, the formation of the Anti-Defamation League. The mission of the ADL is "to stop, by appeals to reason and conscience and, if necessary, by appeals to law, the defamation of the Jewish people. Its ultimate purpose is to secure justice and fair treatment to all citizens alike and to put an end forever to unjust and unfair discrimination against and ridicule of any sect or body of citizens." ADL works to protect, investigate, and educate. It works closely with law enforcement officials around the country. It monitors extremist activity, and investigates hate crimes. It educates people about bigotry, racism, and hate. It promotes diversity in schools and teaches children about the dangers of bullying.
In 1993, I began attending ADL meetings in Atlanta. I found the meetings not only intellectually stimulating and challenging, but also long and sometimes frustrating. I make yearly contributions to ADL because I feel its mission and work are important. My law firm, Ford & Harrison, has sponsored the ADL's annual Jurisprudence Awards luncheon, which honors lawyers in the Atlanta community who have made outstanding contributions to the cause of eliminating hatred and bigotry. The firm has also sponsored the annual "Community of Respect" dinner, which recognizes community leaders for their good deeds and work in fighting hatred and bigotry.
Why does Ford & Harrison support ADL? As lawyers and members of the Bar, we are sworn to support the rule of law and the principle of equal justice for all. As human beings, we must look for ways to give back to the community and leave it in a better place than it was before we got here. We need to measure ourselves not just by the revenue we generate for the firm, by the number of hours we bill in a year, or by the number of "wins" for our clients, but also by what we do in the community and the impact we make on our fellow citizens, especially those who are victims of, and victimized by, hate. ADL provides the vehicle for us to do these things.
ADL's work can be summed up in a quotation from Rabbi Hillel (ca. 110 B.C. to 10 B.C.). Rabbi Hillel said: "If I am not for myself, who will be for me? If I am not for others, what am I? And if not now, when?"
Why ADL? That is why.